You Need to Watch Your Speed

My philosophy in life is to have 99 good days out of 100, then blog about the bad one.
So here goes.
The first couple hours went pretty well. I got up early, went to the gym, played basketball for the first time in ages and totally dominated (there are no living witnesses to disprove this statement). I then showered, picked up a shake and a few protein bars, and headed to the world-class Lucky Star Casino in Concho, Oklahoma to play some poker.
I was feeling good, re-living in my head all the amazing basketball shots I made, when about a mile from the casino I saw the cop lights.
Eighteen years ago this would have been a source of panic, but by now I've been pulled over a couple dozen times and gotten maybe half that many tickets so it's really no biggie. The only thing that sucked is that, unlike all but about two of my pull-overs, I wasn't attempting to speed and didn't know I was speeding.
The following is the actual, unedited conversation I had with both the voice in my head and the Canadian County officer who pulled me over. I assume his primary job is as a secret service FBI Gestapo agent and he just works for Canadian County on the side.

Officer: You in a hurry, buddy?
Voice in my head: Good one, Barney Fife.
Me: No, I'm sure I was speeding but I really wasn't trying to. Just wasn't paying attention.
Officer: Where we are now is a 65 mph zone, but back by that bridge it's 45 and I clocked you at 63.
(I had forgotten about the classic speed trap back by the bridge, where it goes from 65 to 55 to 45 in a half-mile span for absolutely no reason on a four-lane highway in the middle of nowhere).
Me: Okay.
Officer: That's just too fast. You need to watch your speed.
Voice in my head: Sure thing, skippy.
Me: Okay.
Officer: Where you headed?
Voice in my head: None of your business.
Me: The casino
Voice in my head: Your mom's.
Officer: Do you always take a gym bag with you?
Voice in my head: No, only when I go to the gym.
Me: No, only when I go to the gym.
Voice in my head: Oops.
Officer: What's in that paper bag right there in the center console? Anything I need to know about?
Me: Just some protein bars. (I dumped them out.) Want one?
Officer: No, just making sure it wasn't liquor or drugs. Looked like it could have been. OK, well 63 is just too fast so I'm going to have to write you a ticket. You need to watch your speed. Just hang tight, I'll be right back.
Me: Okay.
(While he wrote my ticket, I never took my eyes off the speedometer, which was at zero. Already getting the hang of this Watch Your Speed thing!)
Officer: Like I said, 63 is just too fast, but I wrote the ticket for doing 55 in a 45. That'll save you a little money and won't go on your driving record. Just sign here.
Voice in my head: It's super generous for you to set up a blatant speed trap and only charge me $188.50 for driving 2 mph under what the speed limit should be.
Me (signing): Okay, thanks.
Officer: Just watch your speed for me, OK?
Me: Okay.

So I got to the casino down $188.50 and left eight hours later down a bunch more speeding tickets. Good times. Today I pleaded no contest (does anyone plead guilty on those things, and why do they even have two options where the result is exactly the same?) and mailed a check for $188.50 to the Canadian County Court Clerk.

Just to be clear, while I did find this particular Canadian County officer to be a tad hyper-vigilant, I do have a great deal of respect for all police officers. They're putting their lives on the line every day to make us safer while I'm playing a card game and occasionally spewing off blogs and sports stories for very little money.

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